


Blood and Kisses

by Dragestil



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 02:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11545836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragestil/pseuds/Dragestil
Summary: Ionas wakes in a strange and dark world where it seems everything wants his blood. Though this adds challenge to his duties, he is relentless in pursuing his goals. What awaits him in this new land? Can he survive? And more still, can he finish his job?





	Blood and Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series about my axe-wielding kissboy Ionas whose one true goal is to spread smooches and love. It's probably gonna be dumb and silly, but I hope still good. Perhaps this'll be a "fresh take" on the whole hunter business. Regardless, I hope you enjoy

It was dark when he woke. He was used to waking up in the dark, of course, but this dark was peculiar. It was heavier than he was accustomed to, and it smelled distinctly of blood. That definitely qualified as unusual. His line of business required a certain level of hygiene that generally precluded smelling strongly of iron and viscera. He rubbed sleep from his eyes as he sat up.

Now this was exceedingly unusual. As opposed to his comfortable bed at home, he was on what appeared to be a hospital gurney. But this was no immaculate place of healing and renewal. This was clearly some sort of hellish dreamscape - well nightmare-scape he supposed. There was nothing clean in sight, not even his own clothes, which he was shocked to find were not the ones he fell asleep in. At least they fit him, and they looked surprisingly nice.

“Anyone home?” he called tentatively, not entirely sure if he wanted any sort of answer. He wasn’t sure the sort of people he might find in a place like this. Still, he had duties to carry out and standards to uphold.

When there was no response, he nodded his head once, brushed himself off, and headed toward the door. Which did not open. He sighed. That was certainly his luck. There were always hiccoughs in his plans, even the simplest. And this hadn’t been a simple plan in the slightest. He had gotten word of a place entirely devoid of light and love, which he certainly couldn’t abide. So he had set off for - well he wasn’t entirely sure where. He was working largely based on rumours and hearsay. But at least it looked like he was in the right place now, however he managed to get there.

“Come now, Ionas. There’s another door right over there. That must be the proper exit,” he coached himself, preferring the sound of his own voice to the eerie silence.

He crossed the room swiftly and pushed the mercifully unlocked door open. It was then that he noticed the...less than sanitary stains sprinkled haphazardly across the floor. And then his eyes followed one gory trail to a distinctly unfriendly looking mass of fur. He took a deep breath. This wasn’t the first time he’d run into someone’s unhappy or untrained pet. As long as he kept himself calm and gave the creature a wide berth, surely he would be fine.

“I’m just going to walk over here, alright? And then I’m going to-”

The creature’s deep growl broke his concentration, his speech, and his forward momentum. He froze between bloodied gurneys and stacks of books - medical texts? - and stared at the now standing creature. It was far larger than he had imagined, and the look in its eyes petrified him. How was he meant to get any work done with an animal like this loose? 

“Easy now,” he began, though his voice was trembling, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

In the blink of an eye, the beast was upon him. He flailed wildly, praying that his fists would do something, anything to slow the attack. But he was no match, and he felt dagger-sharp claws slicing effortlessly through his clothes and flesh. He let out a shout as he took a particularly brutal blow that knocked the wind out of him. He hit the floor with a dull thud and blacked out for a moment.

When he opened his eyes, he was somewhere entirely different. He scrambled to his feet and cast quick glances to his surroundings to be absolutely certain there was not a murderous hell-beast waiting to devour him. But he was alone, save for several - what were they? tombstones? - ornamental rocks, a lifesize doll, and weird creatures playing in pits of ooze scattered randomly about this odd place. What was odder still was that he could swear these creatures were signalling to him! He took a chance. After all, what could these creatures do that would be worse than the mauling he had just been subject to?

Ionas straightened his glasses and approached one of the puddles of slime and spirits. The creatures reached toward him, and after a moment’s thought, he knelt down to better appraise them. His vision went dark for a moment as a buzzing sound came from the creatures and surrounded him.

“We have gifts for the hunter,” a chorus of voices spoke in his head. “Choose wisely before you go back to Yharnam. You want our gifts.”

He had no idea who or what Yharnam was, let alone what gifts might help him there, but the images of three weapons appeared in his mind’s eye. He swallowed and supposed that weaponry would be a boon if he was going back to face that foul beast. He cautiously reached for the second weapon, a sturdy and large axe. As his fingers curled around the grip, his vision cleared and he found himself still knelt on the ground but now with the axe in tow. He didn’t have time to consider this before another pile of muck beckoned him closer.

Now intrigued more than afraid, he scurried over and knelt down, prepared when his vision again dimmed and the buzz returned. The voices reiterated the same spiel about gifts and Yharnam, but now two guns appeared. He was not much a fan of firearms. They were very impersonal, and he worked in a deeply personal business. But he supposed it would be impolite to turn down a gift, and an extra weapon surely couldn’t hurt. He grabbed the pistol with little thought and was once more deposited back in reality. 

He stood up and tucked the gun away in a holster he hadn’t previously noticed. He decided before attempting to seek the way back to this Yharnam place he would get acquainted with his new axe. This place seemed relatively safe in comparison to the dank hospital he had first woken in, and he had the nagging feeling that skill with his weapon would be crucial to achieving his goals. He took a few cursory swings before finding a strange bump on the handle. Curious, he pushed it, gasping as the short handle extended and turned his short range weapon into a more formidable long range one. Now this was his style.

Ionas smiled. Of course he wasn’t much for fighting - it tended to go against his job’s requirements - but there was a time and place for everything. Right now and Yharnam seemed the exact time and place for violence. He swung a few more times with his now extended axe to adjust to the momentum and drag of it. He nodded firmly once satisfied. This would do, at least for a time until he sorted out what was happening.

An instinct he couldn’t quite place told him to investigate the stones lining the cobbled pathways of this strange place. He paced over to the one nearest him and leaned down to read the heavily worn but deeply engraved writing. At the top of the stone was the word “Yharnam” and beneath it was “1st Floor Sickroom.” There seemed to be other things written beneath, but they were utterly illegible. For some reason, though, Ionas felt certain they would become clear in time.

Regardless of this odd premonition, Ionas knew this stone was the key to returning to Yharnam. He leaned forward and touched the second engraving. Everything went black for a moment before he found himself standing in the clinic again. He blinked once to make sure he was truly seeing his surroundings correctly before steadying his grip on his axe. It was time for his mission to actually begin.

Ionas smiled to himself as he whistled a jaunty tune he remembered from childhood. He felt nothing even akin to fear as he caught sight of the creature that had sent him into the strange place between realities. He readied his weapon and dove into the fight. It was thoroughly invigorating to cut into the beast as effortlessly as it had previously cut into him. In moments,  its corpse lay at his feet, and he shouldered his axe to take a breath to admire his work. He brushed the blood-matted fur away from the beast’s snout and pressed a quick kiss to it.

“Goodnight, friend. Rest with love in your heart,” he said easily. Well-armed and eager as ever, he stepped away from his first kill with new surety in his purpose. He still had no idea where Yharnam even was, but he knew that the souls trapped in this world of darkness needed his services more than perhaps any other place he had gone. Who else could bring light and love and redemption? None. Only he could heal these hurts, he was certain of it. 

He wiped his glasses clean on a small cloth he had knicked off one of the cleaner gurneys. This was going to be his strangest and perhaps most dangerous job yet, but he was prepared. And he even was going to look good while working - something he always found to make his task easier. He began whistling again as he headed for the door that surely led out into this strange new world. Whatever was waiting for him, his new axe - already tinged with the beast’s blood - was more than ready to offer greetings. 


End file.
